


Thirst

by starhoneyy



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Dark, Dysfunctional Relationships, Hybrid Taeyong, Implied Mpreg, Kissing, Lee Taeyong-centric, Lies, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, M/M, Minor Violence, Neck Kissing, Possibly Unrequited Love, Supernatural Elements, Taeyong is in love, Tension, Unhealthy Relationships, Vampire Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun, Vampire King Jaehyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28604865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starhoneyy/pseuds/starhoneyy
Summary: Taeyong is driven by desperation. Jaehyun is driven bybloodlust.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 14
Kudos: 78





	Thirst

When Taeyong steps into the room, it is silent — there is nothing but the careless whisper of his almost ragged breaths. And it is as if Jaehyun is magnetic, Taeyong’s feet drawn forward and eyes burning holes into the man who is perched upon a throne. There is something awfully sinister about the way he sits, Taeyong thinks — legs spread and hands by his sides, a finger tapping against the blood red throne handle inaudibly — or maybe it isn’t the way he sits at all, maybe it is the look in his _eyes._

Taeyong feels compelled by them — by the darkness he yearns to lose himself to and by the flames flickering within them when he enters the room. He knows he hasn't cleaned himself properly when Jaehyun's nose flares almost unnoticeably, and it means that the blood that has tainted his flesh hasn't been properly washed off. He can feel it soak into his skin as a physical remembrance, and under his nails to remind him of his sins. But he is too far gone to stop now, and it would be a waste. He can hear Jaehyun say it in his head like an earworm; a waste and a _shame._

He stops in front of where Jaehyun is seated, licking over his cherry lips whilst something warm pools in the depths of his guts — it is want, it is familiarity, it is the need to touch a man so intangible that it causes him physical pain. But he spends a second too long admiring a man that he _knows_ cannot be his, because Jaehyun's stare turns hard, and only then does Taeyong remember to kneel. His palms splay across the cold chamber floor, and he lowers his head as a sign of respect to their king — _his_ _king._

"I.." Taeyong starts, but his words are lost in the noiseless room.

He shuts his eyes. He's been with Jaehyun like this many times — alone and left with nothing but his own resolve to ensure that he doesn't falter, and yet, he still has his days. He still has the days where he trips over his sentences, where each word falls like merciless soldiers and flattens upon his tongue, and where the simple sight of a man so great leaves him speechless. But Jaehyun is not a man who appreciates such things, and so Taeyong is forced to search for lost thoughts in the dark.

"I did it," he continues. "They're gone. All of them. The blood of their village has been saved for our people in times of famish and feast."

He feels breathless after his says it, body spent as he lowers his head even more — but it is not the action of speech that has him drained, it is the energy he lost when taking the lives of humans. And in some ways, it's funny, he thinks — how he had forsaken his humanity and his people for a man like this. But Taeyong doesn't regret. There isn't room for _regret._ And he will hear the screaming of innocent children blaring in his ears at night for years to come.

"Stand," Jaehyun says, voice low but coated with so much command that it feels as if a knife has pierced his skin.

He, too, is bleeding somewhere, somehow, internally. And he is not one of them no matter how much he wishes and cries for it — his blood moves, he can feel the thrum of it through his veins as he stands, dizzying him. And he can hear his heart pound when Jaehyun stands; it is slow, it is irregular, but it is _there._ It is a constant reminder that he and Jaehyun will always be worlds apart, if not in status, in the way they were born from womb and flesh.

Taeyong wills his body to solidify as Jaehyun steps forward. There is something around the man, and he is glowing, an aura of darkness emanating from within him. His stance is powerful, his eyes are harrowing, and the corners of his lips twitch upwards into a smile. It is all pretend, Taeyong knows, and he also knows that Jaehyun _chooses_ to walk because Taeyong could blink and he'd be behind him, warm breath sending bolts of electric shivers down his spine. Or he’d be in front of him, or beside him, or hovering above him like a ghost, soundless and airy.

Taeyong feels his heart threaten to seize and burst all at once when Jaehyun's hand comes up to cup his cheek. His palms are ice, and it causes the hairs on Taeyong’s skin to rise. Jaehyun's thumb grazes the edge of his cheeks and looks into his eyes — Jaehyun’s are as unreadable as they have always been, but Taeyong thinks he knows what is in them, but perhaps it is his delusions telling him that the man could ever learn to love. Taeyong knows of the emotion swimming in his own eyes, urging Jaehyun to satisfy his aching want by inching his lips closer until they unify, and to allow Taeyong, himself, to touch.

But for Taeyong, it is _forbidden._

"You think our people are famished," is the first thing Jaehyun says. He smiles wider then, blinding white teeth glinting in the dark, the edges of his canines razor sharp. Taeyong's heart swells with pride thinking that for once — _for once_ — he has done something to warrant praise, _any praise,_ anything to let him know that he has pleased his king. Then Taeyong’s heart drops when Jaehyun's fingers dig into his skin, and the king’s beautiful smile is gone in the flash of an eye.

"Tell me.." Jaehyun cocks his head. His words are whispered yet ring loud and clear in Taeyong's head. "Do you think our people are _starved?_ " he goes on. Taeyong's lips tremble when Jaehyun's fingers dig harder, so deep that he can feel the outline of their hard tips on his bone through the skin of jaw. "It is insulting. You think that if we weren't parched we couldn't kill them off ourselves?" Jaehyun pauses to lift his fingers away from Taeyong's jaw to instead run his cool thumb over Taeyong's warm lips.

"Tell me, Taeyong," he starts again, eyes darkening. And if it were any other situation, Taeyong would have cried tears of joy from hearing Jaehyun address him directly in such a manner, but it is not any other situation, and all he feels is fear wrapping around his bones and pulling them tight because the tone Jaehyun uses tells him that he's had _enough._ "If I thirst, is it not easy for prey to fall willingly at my feet? If I wanted to drink..."

Taeyong blinks and Jaehyun is gone, but he is there — he is behind him, lips murmuring over Taeyong's exposed collarbones, sending tingly vibrations that make their way all up to the neurons in his brain. Taeyong feels his eyes pricks with tears, though not from fear — from the almost palpable feeling of pleasure because of a man so close to him. Jaehyun's arms circle around his torso almost possessively, but Taeyong doesn't belong to him, no matter how much he prays to the gods — _no,_ it is Jaehyun that belongs to nobody but himself, for he thinks he is the only one worthy.

"If I wanted to drink..." Jaehyun repeats, fangs skimming Taeyong's skin as he speaks. Taeyong wishes for Jaehyun to drink from him again — _to drink, drink, drink,_ and drain him until he's dry. It would be a less than honourable death, but he would die in the hands of his only lover. "I could have you. If I wanted to drink, how easy would it be to sink my fangs into your flesh for those drops of blood. How easy, Taeyong? Hm?"

The question is rhetoric, but Taeyong so desperately wants to answer, spindly legs threaten to crumble underneath him. "Do it," Taeyong tells him breathlessly, head lolling back and eyes falling shut. "Do it. Feed from me."

Jaehyun's teeth dig into his flesh, and Taeyong feels his mind fuzz around the corner as it pinches, though not enough to puncture. Then suddenly, the feel of Jaehyun's body curved against his back is gone. Taeyong doesn't have time to miss the soft lips or the dangerous feel of teeth threatening to break surface tension because he is in the air in the blink of an eye — he is in the air, and then he comes _crashing down._

The pain is little at first, like tiny needles are being pricked into his body, but then it grows, and it grows, and it _grows_ until he's letting out a cry of agony. His bones feel shattered, like they have been scattered in pieces all around him on the floor, surrounding where his body had landed after being thrown across the room, only to slam against the wall. But his body is intact. He is alive, and he is breathing, and his bones are not glass, but he feels their shards.

He can barely look up to make out the way Jaehyun steps forward, large and dominating, with his eyes turning from red to black in volatile anger. "Is it lust that gave you the courage to order me?" he seethes. "Is it the want that made you lose your mind?"

And for a moment, Taeyong can't put together the far away pieces of what Jaehyun means. But then, he gets it; _Do it,_ Tayeong told him, _feed from me._ They are words so simple, so innocuous, so driven by want that Taeyong hadn't seen their harm in the time that he had lost himself when slipping over the edge of pleasure. But it wasn't all. It wasn't just that which fueled the madness in the king's eyes. It was an accumulation of Taeyong's actions that has led them to this point.

"You have grown brave," Jaehyun snarls. "You have killed those people not under my orders. And for what? Simply because you crave my attention? Simply because you wish the please me? You? A _hybrid?_ "

Taeyong wishes to cry out _yes,_ and that _it is for you,_ and that it has always been _for you._ But the word hybrid is bitter and acrid, and it reminds Taeyong of his position. A halfling is nothing to them. He is simply a vessel born half alive — he has the blood and heart that Jaehyun no longer possesses no matter how slow it still beats. He is _food._ He is food with ambition, with desperation, and he is a man that has fallen too hard, too far, and too fast in love, be it unrequited. The pain of the rejection is enough to bring hot tears to his eyes, but he wipes them and swallows it down — the humiliation of it all is enough.

But Taeyong is desperate. Jaehyun is towering above him, so he is scared, and his instincts are screaming at him to leave, but despite all this, _he is desperate._ And desperate men have the inclination to spew lies.

"I am pregnant."

There is a pause — a weighted, brick-like beat; one beat, two beats, _three,_ until the tension is broken.

"I am pregnant by your seed," Taeyong goes on, the fabrication now growing so large with every word that it has become uncontrolled. He can no longer take back his words. He can no longer reel in that sharp hook if he tried. "We-We've slept together many times," Taeyong goes on shakily, stating the obvious. Jaehyun's eyes darken as the seconds pass, and Taeyong's instinct of survival tells him to hide — to not fall into that abyss — but he gathers his spineless being, and his hands turn to ivory fists as he stands.

"You know halflings can get pregnant... we are still... we are still _human_." To admit such a thing to himself in the face of a vampire is damning, but it must be done. Taeyong takes another trembling step forward, his goal being the middle of the room in which Jaehyun stands, dissecting him with his eyes. "Halflings still have blood... we have a beating heart. You can hear it. You can feel it. You have tasted it within me before. I—"

Taeyong stops when he realises he no longer needs to walk because his king has done it for him — he has appeared right in front of Taeyong with resignation in his eyes. Taeyong's heart ricochets against the breakable walls of his ribs, each damaging hit causing a crack to form until it splinters completely. He watches with bated breath as Jaehyun's claws grow, and then there is a rip down the length of Taeyong's shirt, exposing him to the beast. Embers of fire flicker in his stomach when Jaehyun places a cool palm to his stomach to feel for life.

There is nothing there, Taeyong knows, and soon, Jaehyun will too. His insides are hollow, and he has told a damning lie. But Jaehyun believes him. Jaehyun is touching him, and Jaehyun believes him. It is enough for Taeyong to be content. Jaehyun's finger, with its piercing nail, drags across his bare torso, from his stomach, to his chest, to his neck, until it lands under his chin and settles there. Jaehyun tilts his head until Taeyong meets his eyes, searching for a truth that cannot be found in this life or the next.

And then he kisses him with lips so familiar and so warm, and Taeyong melts as the skin and bones holding him together dissipate. It is the way Jaehyun, fiery and ferocious, holds him delicately as if he and the child Taeyong had conjured would be gone — it is the way that Jaehyun kisses him so fervently and so forcefully that Taeyong can't help but _moan,_ and it is the way that he is here in front of Taeyong, _whole._ They are one in this moment, and Taeyong wants the power to slow the moment down so it will become forever. But then Jaehyun pulls away, licking his swollen lips, and the lie comes back to him at full force.

Be it for a few more days, a for a few more hours, a for a few more _seconds_ — it didn't matter.

Taeyong is a man who wishes to die.

**Author's Note:**

> all i’ve ever wanted to do was write vampire king jaehyun... but do leave a kudo or comment if you enjoyed!  
> [twt](https://mobile.twitter.com/starhoneyy)  
> [cc activities](https://curiouscat.qa/starhoneyyy)


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